


How The Nibelungen Gold Came To Be

by thorduna



Category: Thor (Movies)
Genre: Adventure, Coming of Age, Fluff and Angst, M/M, Rites of Passage, Seduction
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-05-03
Updated: 2013-08-10
Packaged: 2017-12-10 07:41:49
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 18,971
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/783522
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thorduna/pseuds/thorduna
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>On the brink of adulthood, Thor and Loki depart on a quest to obtain a treasure from Nidavellir. Perhaps it's not so surprising that the journey will be more important than its goal. </p><p>An adventure story featuring cosy tents, chilly forest streams and mouths smeared with blueberries. And some grumpy wolves along the way.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Departure

**Author's Note:**

> This story is set in pre-canon MCU but several of the plot ideas are very loosely based on comics and mythology. I don't mix these worlds, I simply follow some of the patterns they offer, such as the whole idea of riding out for a quest.
> 
> Warnings for this story include incest, underage (Thor and Loki being in their late teens by human standards, by their own year count I imagine they have been around for a century or two), animal death (in the context of hunting – boys need to eat – and it's never graphic) and canon typical violence.
> 
> As for the layout of their journey – I am working with a depiction of the Nine Realms that places Asgard, Alfheim and Nidavellir on the same plane, therefore Thor and Loki travel there on horseback without the aid of the Bifröst. Original character and place names come from various online Old Norse sources.
> 
> I welcome all comments, thoughts and suggestions, as well as I appreciate every single kudos and bookmark :)

Loki's tall mare scraped her hooves impatiently on the cobblestones.

 

She could sense the excitement of her master and she was stirred by the noise flowing from the streets; people were shouting and cheering loudly, waving furiously at the departing princes and throwing their favours at them. The warm summer air was filled with floating ribbons and fluttering banners, giving a colourful edge to the gold of Asgard.

It was a great affair, perhaps the greatest in a century.

Thor and Loki, the young, well loved princes of Asgard were entering the last chapter of their childhoods (though they would both tell everyone that they were long since grown) and upon their return from this journey, they would be adults.

Their task was straightforward, though by no means simple. They were to leave Asgard on their own, in the company of only each other, travel first through the fertile, welcoming lowlands that surrounded the city they grew up in, then through the vast forests and into the wild and danger of the mountains. Once they accomplished this, they would find themselves in Nidavellir, the land of the dwarves. Here they must obtain a treasure of gold, a treasure that was well described to them by Odin, their father and the mighty Allfather. By trick or force, they need return with it in order to succeed.

The average citizen of Asgard was no stranger to the sight of the princes smiling and jesting and many of them (especially the elders) covered their smiles at the loud, boastful nature of Thor, the first born, and at the no less bold mirth and mischief of his younger brother Loki.

_So young,_ people would say. _So strong. So happy. And why would they not be? They have only ever lived in the golden times of Asgard._

Thor re-fastened his saddle unnecessarily to hide a sudden stab of nerves and looked at his brother. Loki was doing his own last checks of the provisions and turned to give Thor a nod before he swiftly mounted and waited for Thor to do the same.

They made their way side by side through the crowd filling the well known streets, across bridges, through gates and finally out.

The summer breeze was pleasant after the stifling heat of the city.

 

Loki looked over at Thor with a smirk playing on his face.

“Here we go, brother. No turning back.”

“I wasn't planning to,” Thor replied with a smile of his own. Finally out on the road, with his loyal horse under him, all doubt left him. “We will enjoy this.”

“I'm not sure we are meant to,” chuckled Loki and spurred his horse to trot.

“Perhaps not. But I cannot imagine better adventure. I hope we will run into some mountain wolves.”

“You hope that we do, I hope that we don't.” Loki's tone turned dry and Thor's smile even wider.

Loki was showing a certain amount of disdain towards the traveling part of their task. The road they were taking would soon lead them away from all civilization. For the first two or three nights, they would sleep in inns, but after that, they would have to do with tents and other shelters that might come up on the way. Thor relished in that, having enjoyed many hunts with his friends, but lately Loki tended to stay behind on such occasions. It troubled Thor that Loki barely hid his dislike of Thor's friends, but he opted to play oblivious instead of stirring a confrontation. Maybe after their success, in which they would both prove their prowess, the tension would thaw.

But Sif and the Warriors Three weren't here now. It was just Thor and Loki, brothers on a journey to greatness. Thor liked the sound of that.

 

They rode quickly on the wide road, trotting and cantering in turn, only occasionally slowing to greet the villagers who came from the fields to see their princes, although they never stopped. So far the land was well known to them, but as the sun approached the horizon, Thor pulled out a simple map from his saddle bag and confirmed that they were indeed close to a village called Hanatún in which an inn with the poetic name Roaring Boar was to be found.

“Afraid that we are lost already?” taunted Loki when he turned to see why Thor had slowed down.

“I am taking this seriously. No one can blame us for a little uncertainty in the woods, but I would rather not make a fool of myself out here. They are surely expecting us in the inn, you know.”

“Aye, the golden prince and his little brother coming to drink mead and grope wenches. They must be thrilled.”

“Stop it,” frowned Thor.

“Oh please. I can hear people talking, you know.”

“For a silvertongue, you sure pay a little too much heed to wagging tongues.”

“That's because I am intimately acquainted with the power of words.”

“The power of deeds is much greater. We will come victorious from this quest and no one can question you again.”

Loki didn't answer, only shot Thor a look that he couldn't read and stormed away at almost careless speed. Thor cursed under his breath and followed.

 

With the sharp pace that Loki had set, they reached the village less than an hour after sunset. They were indeed heartily welcomed in the inn. The common room was fresh and clean, fragrant rushes scattered over the floor, a whole boar, probably to do justice to the establishment's name, spinning over a huge fire, looking ready to eat, with juices dripping and hissing in the pit under. The inn was almost filled with the village's best, but Thor and Loki were immediately given the places of honour and served rich plates of roast boar, vegetables and goblets of sweet mead.

“My lords,” bowed the village elder, named Arnulfr. “Please be welcome. It is great pleasure for us to serve you during your quest and we wish you the best of luck.”

“Thank you. We are grateful for your hospitality,” replied Thor politely.

“Indeed,” added Loki. “We revere the beauty and richness of your fields and gardens.”

Their hosts all nodded and bowed to their compliments. It seemed that pleasantries were out of the way and Thor made a move for his food.

Loki's voice caught him by surprise.

“However, our quest demands humbleness as well as skill and luck. We can accept the rich meals of your tables to make sure our strength never falters, but we must decline the comforts of this inn's best rooms and ask for something... simpler.”

Thor looked up at Loki from his plate wordlessly. He expected Loki to hold on to comfort as long as possible, not throw it away. No one ever said anything about humbleness.

“I... umm,” the innkeeper stuttered. “We prepared rooms for your graces...”

“I'm sure you did,” smiled Loki at her, appearing perfectly sincere. “And we are grateful. But if it wouldn't be too much trouble, a single room in the attic will suffice.”

“O-of course, my lord,” she agreed before scurrying away. Thor suppressed the need to shake his head. Loki was up to something and for now, he had no idea what it was.

“I thought you despised simple lodgings,” he muttered to Loki's ear halfway through the meal, when the villagers lost most of their shyness thanks to the mead and were talking loudly, finally making the inn sound like the ones Thor was familiar with. “Why would you refuse good rooms?”

“Well perhaps there is something I desire more than a feather bed and a high ceiling. Now, eat your boar and talk to the elders. One evening of friendly conversation and they will be your loyal subjects for millennia to come.”

Thor stuffed a buttered potato into his mouth and turned away from his brother. Whatever Loki meant, he couldn't figure it out during dinner.

Speaking with the villagers was tolerable, if not too interesting, and Thor did his best to listen and talk in turn, granting his ear to his future subjects. Loki contributed enough to be affable as well.

 

When only the bones were left from the boar and several younger men were sleeping with their heads on the table from overconsumption of mead, Thor and Loki rose and bid their goodbyes. The innkeeper led them them up two flights of stairs, repeatedly offering their best, biggest rooms and Loki refused again and again. Finally, she opened a door in a tiny corridor and showed them to a small, stuffy room. Its floor was almost filled with a hay mattress and the only source of light was the innkeeper's small candle and, during the day, a window that was carved so low in the wall that it touched the floor.

“If m'lords need anything else or change their minds, I will be downstairs.”

“Of course, thank you,” Loki beamed at her before shutting the door with a little to much force.

Thor eyed the thin, but large mattress and the questionable blankets covering it before shedding his cape, armour plate and trousers, keeping his tunic and underclothes.

“Care to share your reasons for this now?” he asked casually, poking the poor bed with his toe. There was a difference between surviving in the wild and sleeping in dirty beddings and Thor was acutely aware of it.

“We are on our quest now,” said Loki in a light, airy tone that told Thor he was certainly lying. “The comforts are behind us.”

“You have made sure of that,” muttered Thor and laid down, kicking the blankets away. The attic was rather hot; the summer sun had been warming the roof the entire day. Loki slid beside him without a sound. Thor watched the wooden ceiling in the dimness for a while, listening to Loki's controlled breathing.

“You don't seem very enthusiastic about this journey,” he ventured, turning his head to look at Loki's dark hair instead.

“I mean for both of us to complete it, safely and successfully. That's all you should care about.”

“That most certainly isn't _all_ I care about. We have had few chances to spend time together lately. I wish for us to enjoy this, even if there are dangers on the way. Or especially if there are dangers on the way.”

“Yes, yes, I have heard you the first ten times. Wolves. Bilgesnipe. Murderous dwarves. It will be splendid.”

“Loki-”

“Are you warm? I'm not. My legs feel odd after today's ride. I wouldn't want to develop strained muscles.”

Thor hummed lightly when Loki rolled over and stuck his feet under Thor calves. There was no point in arguing about their journey; they were on it and each obstacle would have to be conquered separately. And so he accepted Loki's blatant change of subject and went to sleep.

* * *

 

The innkeeper came to wake them shortly after dawn, as they had requested, and when Thor blinked sleep from his eyes, he noticed that Loki was already up. It was probably for the best, since they tended to get entangled in their sleep when they shared a bed and sometimes they were seen like that by servants. They had always written it off to old habit from their early childhoods (an explanation they had told themselves as well), when they had only one room, but with each occurrence it grew more awkward. Thor was then grateful when Loki took it upon himself to make sure their privacy wasn't disturbed or, unfortunately, to make sure there was nothing to disturb.

He himself was experiencing an oddly particular case of stubbornness when it came to closeness to his brother. He simply didn't wish to let go of it. Ever.

They washed in large basins of warm water that the innkeeper's boys brought up for them and dressed before going to saddle their horses (only to discover it already done, another courtesy of their eager hosts.)

Then they ate fresh bread and eggs for breakfast, accepted a package of smoked ham to add to their provisions and began their journey with the sun still low and dew dripping from the rye that grew on both sides of the road.

 

Thor felt well rested and ready to put a dent in the distance before them. Loki was quiet, but bright eyed and made no complaints about their pace. By late noon, the golden fields gave way to greener scenery; pastures, lines of hop and the occasional meadow. Villages grew smaller and farther apart and Thor and Loki opted to stop at the edge of a man-made pond where oaks and willows offered them shade in the blaring sun rather than ride for what could be hours before finding a settling. Thor loosened the saddle straps of both their horses to let them rest and led them to the pond to drink. They grazed freely after Loki pulled out cheese and dried meat from the saddle bags, handing half of each to Thor.

Sitting down on the fresh grass in the midst of Asgard's beauty, stretching his legs after a long ride and cooling down in the welcoming shade, Thor could almost forget the difficulties awaiting them. Which is why Loki had to dutifully remind him.

“We are ahead of the plan. We will reach Skógahverfi long before sunset and there is no point in staying there and losing what we've gained. If we ride several more hours and spend the night at that inn by the edge of the Brimnesskógar forest, we will be an entire day ahead of the plan.”

“True. The roads here are still good, we needn't worry of riding in the dark.”

“I'm sure that the head start will do us a lot of good once we are in the wildness.”

Thor chewed his cheese, wondering whether to take the bait or not – Loki's tone dropped low and had the unmistakable hint of teasing to it.

“Yes, brother? Why is that?”

“Apart from the obvious? Well, you were the one saying we should enjoy ourselves. And you were right. I mean to _enjoy_ myself.”

Thor nudged Loki's foot with his own and chuckled.

“Eat up. These plans won't matter if we linger here for too long.”

 

Once they were back on the road and the night fell, they slowed down, only speeding to trot when they could see clearly, the stars swirling and shining bright above their heads. They were no strangers to night riding and usually approached it carelessly, rushing through the dark, in love with the sense of danger and freedom that it offered, however now they couldn't afford to risk injuring the horses.

The land was hilly and colder now, yet it was still groomed and showed signs of men's labour at every step.

Loki rode several paces in front of Thor and perused him silently. His horse, proud and tall Gletta, was Loki's companion for several years now, with Loki personally seeing to her training since she was a colt, just like Thor did with his own Druna, who was not quite as tall but sturdier and equally fast.

Loki's silhouette in the dark seemed elegant and in perfect harmony with his animal. He was lightly dressed, with most of their armour and warmer clothing still packed away. They would soon need them, but for now, Thor could well see the expanse of Loki's shoulders and straight back. His hair curled at the nape of his neck and now and then, Thor could glimpse the white skin between black strands, shining in the night.

He wondered what Loki meant by his teasing. Or perhaps he knew, only he did not yet feel like forming the thought in his mind.

Thor's love for his brother had always been warm and fierce, ever since he could remember. As young children, they were almost always together and the presence of soothing warmth was ever to be found in Thor's chest; it was like he never even knew it was there until they began spending time apart and he started to miss it. Once he realized this, he was always going back, always seeking out his brother, longing for the spark inside where it belonged.

He didn't know whether it was right or wrong in the eyes of the world. It certainly felt right to him.

 

“There it is,” called out Loki softly, pointing to a distant glimmer of lights far ahead. Behind those, there was a vast expanse of darkness – Brimnesskógar. The village itself was deserted, windows and doors closed for the night. Only the inn was lit up and alive with the sounds of drinking, feasting and laughter. It was located at the far end of the village, a last point of civilization on the road that would soon lead Thor and Loki into the deep forest.

A stable boy came to see them, alerted by the clattering hooves, and he was yawning so profusely it took him a moment to look at them properly. After that, his eyes widened and he spluttered a bit, calling for the innkeeper as he took the reins of their horses, leading them away in a flutter of nervous hurry.

It seemed this inn was much less prepared for the princes, whether it was because they arrived a day early or for a general lack of interest, Thor couldn't know, but he didn't mind either way.

The common room was noisy and smelled of smoke, but the atmosphere inside appeared to be good and merry. After a lot of elbow poking and whispering, all of the patrons seemed to be aware of the newly arrived and Thor and Loki were exposed to a whole scale of more or less awkward bows and greetings. They begged off most of the conversation by claiming, not falsely, tiredness and were quickly presented with hot venison stew, black bread and spiced wine to wash it down.

Finishing his goblet, Thor saw the innkeeper, an old, white haired man, speaking in urgent whispers to a group of three men, who were well, but simply dressed and Thor took them for hunters. They were frowning at the old man, shaking their heads and gesturing, shooting looks to where Thor and Loki sat.

“They probably paid for the best rooms and he means to move them elsewhere,” whispered Loki in Thor's ear.

“I noticed. It would be handy if you felt as adventurous as you did yesterday and asked to sleep in the stables.”

Loki laughed under his breath.

“Sadly for the good men over there, I desire the very best tonight.”

Unfortunately, one of the hunters saw Loki's amusement and correctly guessed that he and his companions were the targets.

“Look at them. They still have milk dripping down their chins. Let them sleep where the stable boy sleeps, a bit of horse dung will do good to their snotty faces. Brats,” and he spat on the floor.

The innkeeper was flailing his hands desperately in attempt to shush the man, but Thor had already heard, as had everyone else.

He opened his mouth to tell the man off, but Loki was quicker.

“You would know all about that, right? Horse dung I mean.”

A ripple of laughter ran through the inn at Loki's sharp retort, but it died promptly when the hunters all stood.

They were big, strong men, with tales of age and experience written on their faces. They all looked quite similar, with long brown hair and beards. Perhaps they were brothers as well.

“You should watch your pretty mouth, princeling. Someone could deem to fix it for you. It's too pretty, in fact. Are you sure you're not a princess?”

Thor saw Loki's face redden in embarrassment and anger and the sight was the last straw for his already thin patience.

He stood up, pushing the table away with a show of force.

“Be careful how you speak. You are talking to the princes of Asgard and while I see that doesn't mean much to you, I am more than happy to remind you.”

“You? You think that you are man enough to take on the three of us? We can squish you like a bug.”

“I invite you to try,” replied Thor with air of confidence, reaching to his left hip and pulling out his sword. Behind him, Loki did the same.

Mere seconds later, Thor knew that he threatened only for appearance's sake and never really meant to meet the hunters at arms.

A candle toppled inconspicuously on the table behind which their opponents were standing and the flame, as it was later agreed on among the onlookers, touched a poodle of spilled spirits, catching with high, angry fire that flared in the direction of the startled hunters. Two of their beards were immediately aflame and they had next to no luck putting them out. The fire was curiously localized as it never threatened to spread and endanger the other patrons or the building.

Ironically, the flames served to cool the offending men down. They left as soon as their faces and clothing were only smouldering lightly, accompanied by laughing and whistling and after some shouting at the stables, they were gone into the night.

“My lords, you have my deepest apologies... I never would have suspected such vile behaviour... please, please follow me, let me show you to your rooms.”

They were offered two spacious rooms with proper beds and soft mattresses and Thor bid Loki goodnight. He settled down for sleep comfortably and yet, just before he fell asleep, he recalled Loki's toes sliding up his skin the previous night and for a second he wished they weren't victorious in their not entirely honourable fight for better lodgings.


	2. The Master Thief

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Loki tells a story

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm sorry for the wait! The next chapter should arrive sooner!  
> The story Loki tells is an actual Norse folktale.

“This silence doesn't become you, Thor. Are you mad about the fire last night?”

 

The sun was high in the sky but they barely saw it through the thickness of the trees. The road which lead them into the forest had already thinned to only accommodate one horse at a time and they pressed on in slow, but even pace.

“I'm just listening. I would like to catch some game tonight and roast it.”

“It would have served us no good to fight them.”

“You did fight them. In your own way. Does that look like deer tracks to you?”

“But you would have rather run them through with your sword.”

“The only thing I want to run through is a fat stag. With my arrow.”

“You're not fooling anyone, Thor, least of all me,” spat Loki and cantered away.

Thor bit down a sigh and followed. He intentionally didn't speak about the altercation, because it seemed he rarely said the right thing when it came to Loki's proclivity to magic. And seeing that he was now being punished even for his silence, he was beginning to think that perhaps it wasn't entirely his fault.

With Loki galloping noisily through the growth, Thor gave up on all ideas of hunting until his brother calmed down and followed at a safe distance. Finally they stopped by a clear, fast running stream and let the horses drink.

It was still too early to make camp, but Thor cut them each a healthy slice of the smoked ham they were given. Loki took his own wordlessly.

“I don't mind what you did,” said Thor, thoroughly annoyed.

“As you shouldn't. I have the feeling that I will be saving our hides quite often on this quest. I can't help it if it's not always to your taste.”

“I never said-”

Loki silenced him with a dismissive wave of his hand and Thor snapped his mouth shut before he lost his temper.

Desperate for a change of subject, he picked his waterskin and asked Loki if his needed filling as well and the rest of their stop was companionable enough, if a bit too quiet.

They followed the road for several more hours before Thor unfastened a bow from his saddle and reached for an arrow. Loki snorted when he saw what he was doing.

“You will have to dismount. The animals this deep in the forest are not used to horses. They are all far gone. Leave it now and try again when we are settled for the night.”

“I just want to be ready in case something comes up,” Thor insisted.

“Fine. But you better keep up. No use in wasting daylight because you can't stop thinking about dinner.”

“Say that again once you taste my delicious roast.”

“Dear brother, being good at eating doesn't make you good at cooking.”

Thor laughed at that and shrugged.

“Well perhaps it is another skill that will befit you.”

“Ah, wouldn't that be convenient. You heroically slay a beast and leave me to get my hands dirty trying to make it edible. Smart.”

Time passed quickly once they filled it with easy banter. After perhaps two more hours, Thor had to admit that the bow he was juggling in his hands along with the reins was truly useless, but they were about to stop and build a tent for the night anyway, so he kept it just to spite Loki.

 

When they came upon a tiny clearing, just large enough to make a fire pit safely and with enough grass to feed the horses, they agreed to stop right away rather than risk searching for another suitable place later and failing. Thor erected the tent; the considerable length of the oiled cloth they brought with them was ordinary, but the construction gave away their status – it was made of feather-light, but very strong metal, forged with magic. It was not easy to assemble. There were few such objects to be found in all of Asgard and Thor valued the one he had been gifted because it was proven extremely handy on many expeditions. It would never collapse no matter how strong the wind or other plays of nature.

Meanwhile Loki unsaddled the horses and scrubbed them down. Thor noticed that his brother had fallen quiet once more and yet for the moment the silence didn't bother him. It was peaceful this deep in the forest; every sound he could hear added to the calm instead of disturbing it, whether it was birds chirping or leaves rustling in the wind. Thor had known forests to be eerily quiet and it never led to anything good. But here, he couldn't sense anything out of the ordinary or dangerous. It would seem that that part of their journey was not yet upon them.

“Is it going to rain?” asked Loki casually when the horses were taken care of.

“No. But it probably will tomorrow. The days have been very warm lately and a storm usually follows after.”

“Well, keep it reasonable, will you?”

Thor felt a small burst of pride bloom in his chest. Loki was voice was filled with annoyance at the idea of uncomfortable weather, but he relied on Thor to influence it without a second thought. That pleased him, especially since his abilities were still weak.

Hunting that night was easy. It seemed the calm Thor marveled at was felt by the animals too, and they weren't as careful as they should have been and after a mere hour of padding through the forest softly, Thor returned with two young hares. He and Loki cleaned each one and soon they were roasting over a fire Loki had built in Thor's absence, smeared with sweetly smelling green herbs that they found near their small camp.

 

As the meat was turning brown, Loki broke the long lasting silence.

“Do you know the story of the Master Thief?”

“No,” Thor replied, excited. Loki's stories were always good. “Go on.”

“A long time ago, in a village not unlike those we have travelled through, a young man was serving a farmer. It was not a bad livelihood, but the young man had other ambitions.”

Thor threw another log into the fire, poked the roast and settled comfortably, watching Loki as he spoke. His brother was sitting cross legged, his back straight, his eyes narrowed in concentration as he told his tale in a smooth voice.

“In those times, justice was not as easily found as it is today thanks to the Allfather, aided by the ever-seeing Heimdall and there was a thriving guild of thieves. The farmer's servant wanted to become a thief as well and he approached the guild, asking to be admitted among them.”

It was getting dark, the day sounds of the forest quieting and the night sounds taking over. An owl hooted nearby.

“The thieves promised that he would be granted the permission to become one of them should he prove himself in the art of theft and to do so, he must steal an ox from the farmer he was serving. They warned him however that he must do it stealthily, using great wit and skill so that the farmer would not suspect him. Shortly after that, it was the season for the farmer to bring his oxen to the market. He only took one at a time, because they are strong and stubborn animals and he could not hope to lead them safely in a greater number.

“The young apprentice stole silently by the road where the farmer was leading his animals and planted a shoe with silver buckles in his master's path.”

“Where did a poor villager get silver buckles?” interrupted Thor with silent glee. It was a game between them. Thor would point out any inconsistencies in Loki's stories and Loki would need to spin his words into an explanation.

“He inherited the shoe from his father,” replied Loki smoothly without missing a beat.

“Why hasn't he sold them?”

“A _shoe_ , Thor. He only had the one, as I was about to tell you. You are ahead of the story.”

“What happened to the other one?”

“His father had two sons. Each got one.”

Thor raised his arms to gesture defeat and for Loki to continue.

“As I was saying, there was only one and so the farmer walked by it without much notice and left it where it was. What good would an odd shoe be to him, without the other? When he continued on his way, the apprentice picked the shoe and ran through a shortcut to get ahead of his master once more and planted the shoe again on his path. This time, the farmer was intrigued – if he could have the whole pair, the shoes would suddenly become useful, and quite valuable too. He tied his ox to a tree, picked up the shoe and went back to look for the first one. Meanwhile, the thief apprentice untied the ox and took it to the waiting brotherhood, successful in his theft.

“The other thieves were impressed by his deed and encouraged him to go back and steal the remaining oxen as well.”

“That's not very honourable is it? They asked only for the one ox and now they greed for more.”

“Do you think there is much honour to be found among thieves?”

“There are rules in every company, no matter how low they might seem to the others.”

“Oh,” cackled Loki, amusement lighting up his face. “I see you have been paying attention at lectures.”

“It's been known to happen,” replied Thor cheekily.

“I suppose you are right,” mused Loki. “They should have accepted his accomplishment. Alas, they didn't, that's how the story goes. This time, the thief apprentice disguised himself with a hood over his face, took a rope which he wound under his arms and around his neck, hang himself from a tree near the farmer's path and pretended to be dead.”

“That's shameful,” noted Thor as he took the finished roasted meat from the fire, handing out half of it to Loki. His brother took a bite and chewed unhurriedly before continuing.

“Aye, perhaps. The farmer noticed him, but did nothing. What was there to be done? No one can help the dead. Besides, he was still ruing the theft of his animal and so he kept going, leaving the corpse behind.”

The story flowed more slowly now, with Loki pausing often to eat; he would never speak with his mouth full. Thor didn't mind because it only added to the suspense. He was quite enjoying the tale.

“As before, the apprentice thief used a short cut to confound his master. He did the very same thing, staging himself on the tree, pretending that Hela took him. The farmer passed by him once more, reasoning that there was no need to stop, but with each step his legs felt heavier and heavier and finally uncertainty and regret overtook the farmer. He thought bad luck fell on him or perhaps that he was cursed. He decided to go back, tying his ox to a tree and searching for the poor dead soul. And of course, the apprentice easily stole the second animal.

“It comes surely as no surprise that the thieves demanded that as final proof, the young man steal the last remaining ox as well. The farmer made it very easy for him. He was fretting about the theft, finally realizing that he was being ensnared in some trap and so when he suddenly heard bellowing of his stolen oxen, he ran, trying to find them but with no success. Meanwhile, the apprentice took the final animal, now having all three in his possession.”

“And he was accepted among the guild.”

“No. The thieves were proud and distrusting and they were afraid of someone so skilled. They did not wish to be overcome. They refused the apprentice what they had promised him and left the town. The young man then returned the oxen to his master, who was impressed with his wit and soon after, he let him marry his daughter. And that's the story of the Master Thief who was no thief in the end.”

 

“So,” began Thor when the silence grew after Loki finished, his voice disappearing deep into the forest and washing them both with calm and the satisfied, heavy feeling of a good story, not unlike a good meal. Combined with a belly full of roast, Thor felt more than ready to fall asleep, but he still felt like there was something hanging between them. “Was this meant to be educational?”

Loki, who has remained immaculately sitting by the fire during the entire meal, keeping his regal position was finally defeated by the rich meal and stretched by the fire upon the soft moss and leaves. Thor's view of him was partly obstructed by the flames and as his eyes unfocused at time in his tiredness, it made for an abstract, breath-taking picture full of fire, sparks and shimmering light engulfing his brother.

“I don't know. Was it?”

“The story praises distraction and stealth. Is that how you mean to gain the treasure from the dwarves?”

“Is that honourable enough for you?”

“Sometimes it's honourable to not be afraid to sully yourself for the greater good.”

That made Loki sit up and glare at Thor.

“Really? Is that what you truly think?”

Thor squirmed, his cheeks heating a little. He understood Loki's distrust for it was not his usual view of a matter.

“Father told me this before we departed.”

Thor felt a curious sense of shame while admitting it, as if it was a dirty secret he was not meant to reveal, not even to Loki. He wasn't sure why, perhaps it was the memory of his Father's face as he gave him the advice. He felt there was more behind his words and Thor was almost certain that his Father was speaking from experience. And how could he not? He has ruled Asgard for millennia, has led countless wars and still remained the monarch. Thor would have preferred naivety, but it was not granted to him, not in this. A king had to do bad things to some so that the majority would flourish. Thor preferred heroic tales, but he knew this as well.

“When was this?” demanded Loki.

“On the eve before we left. He spoke to you as well, did he not?”

“Yes,” nodded Loki, gazing into the fire, deep in thought. “Yes, of course, I remember now, he said something like that to me as well. It sounded so odd coming from you that I haven't even connected it.”

“All right. We should probably use the time of this journey to discuss our tactics.”

“Yes, absolutely,” said Loki, completely distracted. He stood up from the ground, brushing some moss and leaves from his trousers as Thor watched him, gauging the reason for Loki's sudden unrest. It had something to do with the conversation with their Father; Thor was sure of that.

 

* * *

 

Thor was right about the weather, it did not rain that night.

The forest cooled down and stilled to a low shimmer of peaceful night life. Despite the drop in temperature, their tent remained warm and the brothers slept on top of their sleeping bags instead of tucking in. At one point, Thor awoke rather suddenly and he laid still, blinking into the darkness and trying to figure out what disturbed him. It would not do to sleep through an attack of some kind.

The horses were quiet outside, only Druna snorting lightly in her sleep. He was almost ready to close his eyes again when a murmur coming from Loki startled him. It was a light sound, like a giggle or a stifled laugh and Thor silently patted down his own face and hair and made sure that he could move his ankles apart. It would be just like Loki to smear resin over his face as he slept and then silently smirk as Thor walked around looking like a fool or tie whatever limbs Thor left unguarded together for the sight of Thor falling over ungraciously. He discovered nothing of the sort now and supporting himself on his elbow, he leaned to check on his brother. He could not really see anything with the tent blocking whatever starlight there was under the thick trees, but Loki could school his features into a perfectly innocently looking sleeping face anyway. It served Thor better to just listen and wait.

Loki's breathing was deep and oddly... greedy, as if the air around them was sweet and he yearned for it. Thor was now almost positive that Loki was truly asleep, only waking Thor inadvertently by voicing the pleasure of his dreams. He smiled to himself and carefully reached to where he hoped Loki's hair would be and smoothed the vaguely damp strands back. His touch was light, but Loki stirred anyway, rolling to his side and throwing a leg and an arm over Thor, tucking his face to his brothers chest. Thor wrapped his arms about the sleeping form automatically, comfort settling deep in his bones along his drowsiness.

The morning came with rays of sunlight stealing their way through the tent flap, birds chirping incessantly and Druna and Gletta neighing and stomping. Loki was still in his arms, quiet and unmoving even though Thor saw his eyes were open and alert, watching the light come in.

“Good morning,” yawned Thor.

“Morning,” replied Loki in a hushed, sombre voice.

“What's wrong, brother?”

“I had bad dreams, that's all.”

Thor flushed in shame. He thought Loki was having pleasant dreams, that's why he let him sleep undisturbed. He should have put an end to the nightmares.

“How come? I awoke in the night and you seemed fine. I thought you were laughing in your sleep.”

Loki's face was partially obscured, Thor could see the curve of his nose, green eyes and expressive eyebrows. One of those was cocked in thought.

“That's possible. It started out good,” Loki snorted. “Very good, if you know what I mean. Only turned bad after.”

They shared an amused look. Thor wondered casually if he should feel some repulsion at the fact that he drew his brother into his arms when he was dreaming about sex, but the feeling simply didn't come.

“Come on. No need to dwell on night's troubles. It's a new day and we have a treasure to gain.”

Loki nodded and they rose, packing up their small camp, eating some cold left over meat with a piece of cheese and apple, rushing to be on the road again. The day's heat was stifling even under the protection of trees. No breeze was rustling the leaves and the only disturbance was caused by birds, sparrows and such, as the animals were too small and agile to be really stopped by anything. They were lucky that this close to the mountains, the forest was criss-crossed by small streams and brooks. They stopped often to refill their waterskins and to let the horses drink.

Shortly after midday, Loki simply knelt at the muddy edge of a fast, rushing stream (a sign of desperation in and on itself) and plunged his head straight into the water. Thor laughed at him good-naturedly, washing his own face in a slightly less dramatic manner and took care of their water supply.

“Why must it be so hot,” moaned Loki, sitting pitifully in the mud. “You promised me a storm. Call down some rain.”

“Loki,” admonished Thor. “Nature has its own way. I can but sense its moods and occasionally help it along, if it lets me. Your faith is touching, but I can't help you.”

Loki murmured something unpleasant under his breath and stood up, cleaning the mud off with a spell. He was wearing as little clothes as it was wise for riding in a forest (and suitable for a prince of Asgard), fitting black leggings tucked into his riding boots and a light tunic. He took that off now, giving Thor a view of his pale, but flushed torso, wetted the cloth thoroughly in the cold water and only then put it back on.

“Let's go,” he said sullenly. “The closer we are to the mountains the better.”

It was not until hours later that the first thunder sounded. It was still far away, but Loki let out a relieved laugh and Thor had to smile as well. He did like storms, he was however aware of the dangers they brought.

“We should have camp ready by the time the storm comes. It would not serve us to have the horses spooked by lightning and the tent wet inside.”

 

Shortly after, they found the perfect place – not too high on a hill for the close trees to be likely targets of lightning, but not low enough to be caught in the water flood in case the rain proved to be too much for the dry forest ground.

Loki took care of the tent as Thor unsaddled the horses, the brothers already so used to switching their tasks that it went without further comment. They had enough food left that they didn't need to worry about missing an opportunity to hunt and Thor was feeling good, tired but satisfied with the distance they covered and with the luck they've had. He tied their faithful mares carefully, giving them space, but ensuring that they wouldn't flee and after that, he tore of some evergreen branches and wove them through the lower hanging growth, creating a makeshift shelter for them.

As it was, they were ready for the weather, enjoying the clearing air and show of elements from the safety of their tent, sharing cold ham and a little bit of wine, falling asleep almost instantly despite the loud thunder, exhausted by travelling in such high temperature. The night couldn't have been different from the previous one, loud and wild, drowning everything else and it was then no surprise that this time, Thor didn't wake to any phantom danger; he only regained consciousness once the flap of their tent was torn open, the rain and wind rushing in, along with a mean voice.

“Look at the princesses, sleeping so nicely. Let's gut them.”


	3. Náttfarisons

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Who seeks to attack the sons of Odin?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As always, thanks to Sara for beta-reading.
> 
> This is a chapter in which we get to find out what Loki is thinking! Next chapter will be back to Thor's POV.

Loki was cursing and praising this journey in turns depending on his mood at the moment. He disliked the dust and heat of the road, he had no patience for talking to peasants in villages, he was soon fed up with the smell of horses, the taste of old bread and muddy water in his mouth, with sweat caking on his skin and his body sore from riding for days.

  
But there were things to his liking as well. The freedom, for one. Out on the road, there was no supervision, no curious eyes and quick tongues (no, the irony was not lost on him), no duties other than the ones any sane person would fulfil when travelling. Oh, Heimdall was watching and their Father could be also when sitting on his throne, Loki knew that. But they were undergoing a rite of passage, separated from their world, from everyone they knew, not eligible for advice or help. They were all alone but for each other, severing the ties that shaped their lives up until the moment they left.

  
And therein laid his opportunity.

  
His brother's presence was the other main factor that pleased Loki. Irritating as Thor often was, Loki still preferred to be in his company rather than not. Loki sometimes pondered what a creature of opposites his brother was. He was the perfect target for jokes and pranks as he was naïve enough to fall for Loki's schemes again and again. It was glorious to ensnare Thor; he was prideful and prone to fighting against the odds, raising to baits and posing challenges, but when it was all over, he could laugh about it all and create a good memory. And yet this good-heartedness was but the surface. Underneath it, Thor was _strong._ Strong in love and strong in fight.

  
People would say that Loki was jealous of Thor's strength and they would mean the physical kind. They would not be completely wrong of course, Loki was not above wishing Thor's striking abilities were his own, but when he envied his brother in earnest, it was about a different matter. It was the deep running sense of right and wrong, the faith Thor had in all those he loved and his endless optimism.

  
Something was wrong? Thor would persevere until it was well again.

  
Sometimes Loki was the problem that needed fixing. _We will come victorious from this quest and no one can question you again._ Loki was turning these words in his mouth, spelling them silently in an effort to find out whether they tasted sweet or bitter. He didn't know.

  
Thor was always happy to be the caretaker, to undergo the sacrifice of reckless love. Loki couldn't do that. He could never let go and trust as implicitly as Thor did. It was only in some rare moments with his brother that he felt as light and free as Thor seemed. And he came to treasure those moments because every time he tried to find some freedom elsewhere, he only found chaos that often ended in destruction.

  
And so Thor became his target, in much greater sense of the word than anyone would imagine. With Thor, Loki could still be good.

 

  
“Look at the princesses, sleeping so nicely. Let's gut them.”

  
The voice tore him from sleep and he sat up, hearing Thor's quiet gasp. The cloth of their tent was slashed open, rain falling mercilessly on their scantly clothed forms and soaking all of their belongings.

  
A flash of lightning revealed three huge figures, with wild hair and beards and clad in furs, standing menacingly over them. They were the hunters from Brimnesskógar inn. If Loki was that kind of person, he would regret angering them.

  
Instead, he discreetly grasped the unsheathed dagger that was placed by his sleeping bag.

  
“Do you have a death wish?” Loki grunted at their attackers squeezing his weapon firmly. Thor beside him was tense and even though he appeared just as defenseless as Loki, Loki saw that he had his legs under him, ready to spring into action with force.

  
One of the hunters laughed nastily. “No, but you two brats must have one to insult the Náttfarisons.”

 “I have never heard of you, why should I fear you?”

 “You will fear me now!”

 Reaching for Loki, the man gave opportunity to Thor to jump up and barrel into his side with full force. The others did not step in, only laughed heartily as they watched the struggle. Underestimating Thor and Loki would be their downfall.

 Thor managed to get his knee into the hunter's stomach and knocked the breath out of him, pulling a knife from the man's belt. Loki remained seated, still safely hiding his dagger.

 Thor slashed the knife dangerously close to the skin of his opponent and the laughter ceased when the men finally realized that they were dealing with an actual foe, not easy prey. The two brothers did not face Thor alongside of the third, but they went for Loki instead, just as he had expected. As soon as one approached him, he pretended to hunch down in fear and the moment the man was close enough, he stabbed his foot through with the dagger, pinning his limb to the ground. The hunter screamed in pain and bent down instinctively, giving Loki a chance to break his nose with a well aimed punch and relieve him of his knife.

 With one hunter safely incapacitated, Thor and Loki were no longer facing a disadvantage in numbers.

 Thor steadily deflected his opponent; the man had pulled out another knife, but the one Thor took from him was bigger, with a longer blade and giving Thor the upper hand. The hunter's sleeve was torn in two places, sprays of blood covering the forest floor and mingling with the rain as he angrily swiped his hands to get at Thor.

 Loki carefully danced away from the stabbed hunter, not wishing to be too close in case the man overcame his pain and struck out again. The third brother, the youngest by the looks of it, stalked after Loki armed by a huge machete and a wide, blood-lust smile. As Loki considered him, searching for ways to defeat him, it occurred to him that he had never heard him speak. And yet now, with the crazy, hungry gleam in his eyes, he seemed to be someone that should never be overlooked.

 With Thor busy, Loki was on his own, but he wasn't afraid. In fact, he welcomed the challenge. It was very dark out and he was dressed in black; he retreated silently, holding his knife in a defensive position before mouthing a spell. A flash of light exploded right before the hunter's eyes, blinding him and making him blink in confusion even after the flash was gone as his eyes couldn't re-adjust to the darkness so quickly. Loki spun around, taking cover between the trees and steadily making his way back to round his attacker up and surprise him from behind.

 “You fucking bastard, where are you? I will cut you to pieces!”

 Loki chuckled at the frustrated yell.

 A sharp cry from somewhere behind him broke his concentration, but he quickly reassessed that it wasn't coming from Thor and continued his approach. When he was almost close enough to reach the hunter, the man turned, likely hearing Loki closing in rather than seeing him and slashed his weapon blindly. The tip slid across Loki's chest in a shallow, stinging cut, but more importantly alerted his attacker of his presence and he was immediately under an onslaught of blows that he barely managed to evade. Ducking under a particularly powerful swipe, Loki rolled to the side and sprang up with great speed before his opponent caught up and hit the hunter over the head with the butt of his knife, dazing him. The man wavered on his feet, trying to turn and cut Loki again, but instead Loki brought his fist harshly to the man's cheek and he finally went down, unconscious.

 Loki raised his hand and made a beckoning gesture. Several branches of a nearby growing blackberry bush slithered closer and formed firm restrains at his beaten opponents' ankles and wrists. Walking back to the camp, Loki brought more of the impromptu ropes with him and pointed them at the other brother. Unlike his companion, he was still awake, trying to pull the dagger from his foot and so he loudly voiced his protests against the thorns.

 Thor was still fighting, but Loki was not worried because just a few seconds of watching the struggle told him that Thor was toying with the last remaining hunter. The Náttfarisons, as they called themselves, were apparently strong men and experienced hunters and perhaps they were even considered feared fighters in some the villages they frequented, but their manner of attack and their arrogance was their quick undoing. Loki reckoned that they spent most of their time in the woods and never paid much attention to the stories of Odin's sons (or mostly Thor) gaining fame on the training grounds. Both he and Thor could easily take someone who attacked them in such a simple, straightforward manner, even if they had to face multiple opponents.

 Finally, Thor subdued the older man by feigning a thrust with his knife and then taking advantage of the hunter's counter attack by smashing his elbow, making him drop his weapon with a yell and then incapacitating him with a kick to the head. Loki thought it was a bit dramatic, but said nothing as he had some more blackberry branches spring forward to put the third hunter to the same fate as his brothers.

 It seemed that Thor only noticed his presence when he saw the magicked plant and he turned to face Loki, soaking wet, breathing harshly and his eyes gleaming with the lust of fight.

 “Brother!” Thor yelled, making his way to Loki through the mud. “I see you have felled two of our enemies.”

 Loki wanted to snort and point out that they were hardly enemies; they were Aesir after all, just a little misguided, but Thor had him by the shoulders before he could open his mouth and was pulling him into a hug.

 They were both wet from the rain that kept falling but Loki didn't feel cold and Thor seemed to be so excited by the fight that his flowing blood made his skin hot. Loki blended easily into his brother's arms and his eyes fluttered close as the side of his face got pressed up against Thor's hair, wet with rain and sweat, but as soon as their chests touched a flare of pain ran over his skin and he remembered that his injury was more than a scratch. He pushed Thor away and gingerly pulled his tunic up.

 “You are hurt!” exclaimed Thor softly and brought his finger to soothe Loki's chest under the long shallow cut. It went just bellow Loki's nipples.

 “It is not deep,” shrugged Loki, looking down at the crimson line that oozed blood slowly.

 “We must bandage it,” Thor told him, the tips of his fingers still lingering on Loki's skin. Loki was more aware of the tiny points of contact than the gash. The amusing thing however was the honest, worried look in Thor's eyes.

 Thor was standing way too close to Loki, his fingers held by his brother's skin as it by some outer force and he was staring at Loki's bare skin with something much darker and deeper than a simple worry would be and yet he still didn't know it. It was up to Loki to show him what they both craved.

 Maybe they were not so different after all.

 “It is almost dawn,” Loki said. “Our camp is ruined anyway, so let's just pack and leave.”

 Thor stood still for a second too long, still watching Loki's chest before he finally straightened and swallowed.

 “Of course. They will be soon picked up by a patrol.”

 Loki nodded his agreement at Thor's theory – this attack wouldn't go unnoticed.

 They sorted through their drenched belongings, Loki examining with annoyance the ruined tent cloth. He would be able to fix it with magic as soon as he had a moment but the idea of playing a seamstress wasn't appealing. Druna and Gletta were thankfully unharmed, just grumpy from the weather and the untimely disturbance.

 He stripped the slashed tunic off, found a bandage in one of the bags, and gingerly pressed it to the cut. Thor came up to him wordlessly and took the ends from his fingers, wrapping them around Loki's torso and securing with a small knot.

 “Thank you.”

 “You are welcome.”

 Loki enjoyed the puff of breath on his neck as Thor quietly replied to him but he disliked Thor's tone. Wistful, almost. Thor wasn't supposed to be wistful after a successful fight.

 Packing up, saddling and riding out in heavy rain with dawn still a few minutes away was slow and tedious and Loki was not in a good mood. They rode very slowly through the mud and darkness. The only positive thought he could muster was that the culprits responsible for this were freezing on the ground with the skin of their limbs torn to shreds by Loki's makeshift restraints.

 He was sure that the journey wasn't about to get any better. At the start, it had been fun. The first day, Loki was feeling playful when he steered Thor into sharing a bed with him. That had been pleasant. Just a taste of all that was to come. Thor's innocence was almost as warm as his skin when Loki snuggled up to him.

 Thor, despite being the first-born, was always the more sheltered one.

Maybe it was because of the people whose company he preferred outside the family circle, maybe because he, as usual, only looked at the brighter aspects of life, but Loki was sure that there were voids in his brother's mind. Thoughts and feelings and knowledge that were scattered around uselessly. Feelings and desires he didn't connect yet, simply because he had no precedence for it. Loki did. And he was going to build these bridges for Thor so that he could finally _see_.

 Thor believed he wanted to be close, physically close, to Loki simply because Loki was his brother and he loved him. Thor believed that he reacted with such violent protectiveness to slights against Loki because he was meant to care for his little brother. Thor believe that Loki could make him laugh or despair depending on his whim simply because he could do that to anyone.

 But Loki had travelled darker places than Thor did. And Thor was wrong; the truth was hidden from his own heart.

 Loki knew what this desire really meant. He could entwine facts in the correct, unveiled way. It scared him at first, of course. When he imagined the consequences of such an act, he saw shame and disgust and shunning. But then the years went on and he realized that he would never be free of them anyway. It was the way he was, having too many vices, too many ambitions and goals that he could never let go even if he was met with derision, and the world wasn't kind for it. The only thing left to do was make his own way.

 And so, finally, he realized that he could have this as well. He could have Thor and damn everyone and everything.

 That decision was both exciting and frightening.

 Just the previous night he had been dreaming about Thor, images of bare skin and touches and wet kisses running through his sleeping mind, but then something changed and he was suddenly engulfed in flashes or red and blue, drowning. However, waking up in Thor's arms, seeing the simple joy in his brother's face was enough to chase the nightmare away.

 Thor was drawn to him with such intensity that he stood barely any chance at resisting if Loki encouraged him. Thor was going to walk straight into the proverbial trap with a smile on his face, holding onto his pure love until he found himself neck deep in something much darker. And Loki would be there. He entertained the idea that anything could happen after that. Perhaps Thor would become more like Loki, perhaps Loki would become more like Thor. But then again... that was foolish thinking, no matter how amusing.

 “Are you feeling well, brother?” asked Thor. It had stopped raining for the most part, but the air was filled with chilly moisture and heavy drops were falling from the leaves above them. The sun must have risen already, but the only evidence was a bit of grey light making its way through the trees, colouring the forest around them in cold, greenish hues.

 They were riding up a mild hill, following a blessedly straight trail.

 “I'm splendid. Other than being wet, cold and tired.”

 Thor had the audacity to chuckle. “The rain has stopped, you will be dry soon. And we can rest later. Is your wound healing?”

 “Yes,” told him Loki briefly, not in the mood for Thor's buoyancy. The scratch on his chest had already knitted together and simply itched a bit.

 When they reached the top of the hill, they spotted a clearing void of any trees, covered in low grass and several huge stones.

 “Let us stop,” said Loki immediately and Thor nodded.

 They unsaddled the horses and with an ever-worsening mood, Loki opened all their saddle bags and pulled out everything that could suffer from moisture – clothes, food, maps – and spread it all over on the stones. Thor picked up fistfuls of grass and scrubbed Druna and Gletta dry. When Loki had everything out in the clear, he raised his hands and whispered an incantation. There was no joy in this magic for him though. It was no better than doing laundry. That reminded him that he also had to fix the tent and he got to it swiftly, wishing to be rid of these chores.

 Thor likely sensed his sour mood and was quiet up until asking Loki if he wanted something to eat. Loki was starving and so they quickly packed up the now dry supplies back and each took a large piece of cheese.

 It was hard and Loki doubted the taste as he chewed, sighing. Thor nudged him with a shoulder where they sat on the wet grass.

 “I haven't heard you complaining about the rabbit. I bet you dream of having such delicacy again.”

 “A starving man will eat anything.”

 “Then you must not be starving, with the faces you are making at this poor cheese.”

 “Poor. Yes. Good choice of words.”

 Thor laughed and finished his meal, then poked Loki's arm again. “Look. I think I see some blueberries over there. Let us have dessert.”

 Loki brushed off his pants and followed Thor to the scattering of tiny bushes, covered in purple buds.

 “Those _are_ blueberries, aren't they?” Thor was suddenly dubious. Loki rolled his eyes, tore one off the branch and threw it into his mouth.

 “Yes.”

 There was a large amount of the plants and each was filled with sweet, bursting berries and they crouched down, stuffing themselves with growing appetite. Loki thought it would be a small treat at first but he underestimated the richness of the offering, as well as the appeal and soon he was plucking the berries with abandon.

 Too much abandon, it would seem, because Thor suddenly laughed loudly and pointed at Loki's face, breathless with mirth.

 “What?” hissed Loki, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand.

 “You have a bit of... purple...” Thor still wasn't coherent through his laughter, but he reached out and wiped at something at the corner of Loki's mouth.

 Loki forgot his annoyance at being laughed at because, oh, this was exactly what he wanted. First with his wound, now with the fruit – Thor simply couldn't keep his hands off of him. He pushed his chin forward in encouragement.

 “Be sure to get everything.”

 And Thor did, swiping his thumb flatly over Loki's entire lower lip and then the outline of the upper.

 “Better,” he said, lowering his hand.

 “Is my tongue purple?” Loki asked with a smile and stuck it out.

 “Very,” giggled Thor. “And mine?”

 Thor's tongue was bright blue-ish purple colour and Loki laughed. “Yours as well. If you kissed a maiden, she would carry the evidence on her lips.”

 “Well but your mouth is already stained, so if I kissed _you_ , no one would know.”

 Loki stifled a gasp, shock punching the air of his lungs a little before he recovered and smiled widely.

 “Acute observation, brother. There may yet be hope for you.”

 “Come on then,” teased Thor, winding an arm around Loki and bending him backwards.

 Loki didn't appreciate the maiden-like treatment but it was too good to protest.

 “Oh my prince, how you woo me,” he sighed out dreamily, batting his eyelashes at Thor until he was almost dropped as it sent his brother into another bout of laughter. Thor however pulled him up safely and they both snickered. But then Thor dipped his head and planted a small peck straight to Loki's lips.

 “There. Now, we have a journey ahead, we should get going.”

 Loki was a greatly more agreeable company for the rest of the day. _Perhaps this will be easier than I thought. I should learn a lesson from dear Náttfarisons and stop underestimating Thor._


	4. The Lake

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Edit: Now beta'd. Thanks to the team at [hereatyourservice](http://hereatyourservice.tumblr.com/).
> 
> This piece is accompanied by art from the amazing [mrhiddles](http://mrhiddles.tumblr.com)!

Thor's bow hand quivered gently as he adjusted his aim and let the arrow go. With a _whoosh_ , it flew through the trees, narrowly missing a low hanging branch, and embedded itself in the neck of a colourful pheasant. Relieved, Thor hurried to pick it up. It was almost dark, a little while longer of fruitless search and he would have had to give up.

 

“Finally,” grumbled Loki when Thor rushed back to their camp. That night, they stopped amidst some old oaks (robust, but already a little stunted because of the higher altitude), noticing a rock overhang. It would serve as a roof for them tonight. After the chilly morning, the mist rose and summer showed that it still had reign. No clouds were in sight and so they could sleep outside comfortably.

 

Thor was concerned about the attack of previous night. He hadn't woken up until they were in grave peril. Inside the tent, with Loki at his side, he easily forgot the outer world. The raging storm had covered all the sounds their attackers made. Sleeping outside, with a rock wall protecting them from one side with the other being perfectly perceivable, would settle his mind.

 

Loki's injury, however light, filled him with a nervous tremble that he was not really used to. The thin, long red slash was completely out of place on the smooth skin and it made Thor feel light-headed. Worry for his own life was foreign to him, but worry for Loki's was strong and resurfacing wildly, like a beast. He had only barely calmed it by grasping Loki in his arms, feeling the warm weight against his body, even going as far as pecking Loki on the lips, to ensure that breath was still passing evenly through them.

 

They cut the pheasant to smaller pieces so that it would cook through faster, and roasted it with acorns and wild, spicy grass that Loki found. It was a filling meal and they both stuffed themselves silently, the interrupted night and whole day of travel catching up to them.

 

Yawning, Loki laid out their sleeping bags under the natural shelter. They were lodged in between the rock and their camp fire and their horses were tied nearby, almost guarding the foot of their make-shift bed.

 

Thor reclined on his side with a groan and stretched his limbs.

 

“I wish we could get good rest tonight,” he murmured when Loki finally settled beside him.

 

“So shut up and sleep.”

 

Thor thought that it was excellent advice and abided it. Loki didn't.

 

“Brother.”

 

It was just a whisper, a breath on his cheek but he was jolted awake nonetheless.

 

“What's wrong?”

 

“The cut, it burns a little. Will you put salve on it?”

 

Thor's limbs were heavy with sleep and he stumbled out of his sleeping bag and rummaged blindly through one of the smaller pockets on his saddle until he found a small vial. On his way back, he took the opportunity to add several more logs into the fire. It was already burning low.

 

Loki had pulled off his tunic and was lying on his back, looking up at Thor expectantly.

 

Thor faked an exasperated sigh and knelt, uncorking the vial and dipping two fingers in it. Loki's injury was faded, but there were little scabs on it and it felt a little warmer than the rest of Loki's skin.

 

“You know,” Thor said very quietly as he deliberately spread the medicine. “It's on your chest. You can do it yourself.”

 

“No, I cannot.” Loki was the picture of innocence. “It stretches my skin too much when I lift my arms.”

 

Thor finished applying the salve in silence. His mind was a bit hazy at being woken up so shortly after he fell asleep, sort of like moving underwater in a dream. He realized he didn't _understand_.

 

He couldn't tell if Loki was being merely playful, if he was just honestly in pain or if there was another scheme beyond this. Some other time, he would have let it go, but the surreal, disconnected feeling that fell on him in the dead of night, surrounded by heavy, velvet darkness, made it impossible.

 

He wiped his hand and grasped Loki's chin gently, kneeling over him.

 

“Brother, what are you doing?” he whispered and Loki's brow furrowed.

 

“What do you mean? I was simply-”

 

“Shh, no.” Thor put a finger on Loki's lips to silence him and then laid back down, facing his brother. Loki's eyes were wary and wide in the fire light. “Just tell me.”

 

Honesty wasn't his brother's best friend, but even he was capable of it, or so Thor believed. He wished to coax it out of him now as the knowledge that something was balancing on the edge between him and Loki came to him.

 

Loki took a deep breath and spoke so quietly that Thor had to lean in to hear him.

 

“What is there to tell? I love you. I wanted to...” Loki's fingers trailed down Thor's chest. “If you were hurt, I would want to take care of you. Do you not wish to do the same?”

 

“Of course!” Outrage at that doubt made Thor loud.

 

“Well then...” Loki shrugged, looking down. Positively angelic.

 

It wasn't a clear answer (Thor has seen Loki play coy too many times and then laugh about those who fell for the trick scornfully to really believe that it would ever be genuine) and yet it told Thor a lot. Yes, there was a game. And he was invited to play.

 

“I will always take care of you, brother,” he said seriously. “In any way you want.”

 

It was the truth, undeniably. Thor wouldn't lie. And still, as he said the words, he knew that there was another meaning, one that Loki perhaps drew from him and Thor fell for it fully. He chuckled and Loki raised his eyebrows in an enquiry.

 

“Now, if you are satisfied, go back to sleep.”

 

* * *

 

 

Thor finally woke when the sunshine streaming through the leaves became too insistent to ignore. The rest did him well; he was bursting with energy and ready to ride. The air was filled with late summer scents, sweet, fresh and warm. Thor went nudge Loki awake until he noticed that his brother was already squinting up at the bright sky.

 

“It's going to be sweltering hot again, is it not?”

 

It was.

 

Catching up on sleep was good, but it also caused them to depart later than was suitable and the day grew hot too fast as they travelled through a very hilly part of the forest, often dismounting and leading their horses on foot because the ground was too steep and uneven. They needed to overcome this part to get into a long valley that would lead them to foot of the mountains that encircled the whole of Asgard. They scaled the distance in mutually accepted silence, but Thor's gaze kept sweeping back to Loki's cheeks, red with heat, and hair plastered to his forehead and neck with sweat.

 

The afternoon sun was still beating down through the trees at them when they began the final descent into the valley. During a small break they took to rehydrate, Loki dug out one of their maps and his face lit up.

 

“Look,” he pointed to the parchment. “There is a lake in our way.”

 

Thor studied the map for a while and nodded. “Yes. We should come by it shortly and then follow the river that is feeding it all the way to the mountains.”

 

“Well then,” Loki smiled brightly, rolling up the parchment with swift fingers. “I will race you to the water. Last one to dunk his head loses!”

 

It was foolish, dangerous and entirely exhilarating. They raced down the hill, their horses kicking off huge chunks of forest, dirt, and moss, ducking between the trees and jumping over fallen logs. It was amazing to feel the wind in his face and to exchange the heat of slow travel in the sun for the heat of blood pumping in his veins with excitement. He laughed with joy and heard Loki behind him echo his sentiments. Oddly, Thor was winning. Loki was a formidable rider and he was the one who suggested the race; it would seem fitting that he was ready for it. Thor didn't ponder this much, seizing instead his chance and galloped down the hill. Ahead of him, between the growths, he could already see the silvery reflections from a body of water. He couldn't really hear anything over the sound of blood in his ears and the stomping of Druna's hooves but he could almost imagine hearing the seductive splashing of cool waves.

 

Finally he rushed through the last of trees onto a small shore covered in rough sand and tufts of grass. The lake itself was large, curving away from the valley in an S-shape and cutting sharply into the forest covered hills around it and it was a deep aquamarine colour. Thor took this all in in a split second and jumped from his saddle before he even halted Druna properly and ran for the water. His feet hit the surface and soaked his boots and trousers and he didn't stop until the water reached his waist and he threw himself forward with a roar, finally diving under.

 

Blessedly cooled, he did several powerful strokes and resurfaced, turning to see where Loki was with a grin and a teasing joke on his lips. His smile faltered when he saw Loki still on the shore, tying Druna and Gletta to a tree. But Loki didn't seem mad or spiteful because of Thor's prominent victory, he simply waved back at Thor when he saw him looking and called out: “I will be right there!”

 

Thor stood in the chest-high water, feeling a little foolish in his clothes now that the rush of a race was over and watched as Loki approached. Standing close to the water, Loki stopped and pulled off his tunic, followed by his boots, leggings and underclothes. He did it slowly, in acute contrast to Thor's wild run before. Thor wasn't quite sure what to do with himself, completely thrown by Loki's disinterest in their competition and he was simply stuck there, watching his brother undress, so caught up in the uncomfortable feeling of being on his own in his exploit that he hardly realized he was staring straight at Loki. Naked, Loki made his way into the lake slowly, groaning happily as the cool water splashed over his skin. After finally ducking under water, he fell back and floated on the surface in an eagle spread.

 

“You win,” he noted lazily, squinting one eye open at clock-still standing Thor.

 

Thor was speechless.

 

He took off his drenched tunic and whipped it on Loki's flat stomach with a satisfying wet smack. Loki yelped and went under, standing up with hair and water in his eyes, spluttering. Thor laughed and advanced, splashing armfuls of water into Loki's face before he had the chance to regroup. Still blinded, Loki jumped him, guided only by the direction of the splashes and Thor's laughter.

 

Thor's vigour from the race was back and as soon as Loki attacked him, entwining his legs in Thor's in an attempt to trip him and grabbing for his arms, Thor squeezed Loki firmly around the waist and dunked them both underwater. Loki struggled a bit at first but then he wrapped his legs around Thor's hips instead and rode it out as Thor dragged them for a while near the bottom. Resurfacing, they wheezed with laughter while trying to catch a breath. Loki pushed at Thor's chest dramatically, freeing himself and splashing him lightly.

 

“What was that for? I said you won.”

 

“Aye, but only because you didn't try.”

 

“There is just no pleasing you, is there.”

 

Thor rolled his eyes and ruffled Loki's hair. Wet as it was, it was left standing straight up, leaving Loki looking positively ridiculous.

 

“I think you lost your tunic,” noted Loki. “You should go undress before you misplace the rest of your clothing and have to march into Nidavellir naked.”

 

Huffing, Thor plunged through the water until he was close enough to the shore to throw his boots and trousers safely onto the dry ground.

 

Turning around, he found Loki watching him in the same way he probably did before.

 

Reclining on the surface of the green lake, only the tips of Loki's shoulders, knees and toes, as well as, Thor noticed weirdly, the swell of his cock, jutted from the water. Thor dove into the depth again before a worrisome stirring in his gut could become serious.

 

Loki noticed anyway, it seemed, as he smiled sharply at Thor, stretching in a cat like manner.

 

_I am like a man obsessed._ , Thor told himself, diving and swimming in long strokes under water, the cool darkness and silence functioning as a warning somehow.

 

Except that then he resurfaced to face a grinning Loki challenging him for a swimming race, and he threw himself into it with a perfectly undisturbed joy, not a shadow marring the harmless fun they shared and all Thor could feel was happiness coating his skin as tightly as the cool lake water.

 

The sun was almost setting on the far side of the lake when they finally staggered to the shore, exhausted, breathless and with bellies aching with too much laughter. Loki found a spot where the grass was thick and soft like a carpet and they threw themselves onto it, facing the last rays of sunshine that were now welcome again after so much time spent in the cold water.

 

Thor closed his eyes, waiting for his racing heartbeat to calm down, relaxing into the plush grass when something tickled him close to his knee. He shook his leg lightly, thinking it an insect or a stray piece of grass. The tickle persisted until it turned into a light pressure, travelling over his calf. Thor opened one eye to see that it was in fact Loki's toe.

 

“What are you doing?”

 

“I do not know, you tell me,” shrugged Loki, carefully painting caresses over the sharp lines of Thor's leg. There was the game again. It was past time that Thor inured himself with the rules.

 

He opened his mouth and closed it again, all the responses sounding too daring even in his head.

 

“Go higher,” he said finally and his throat immediately closed with shock and blood rushed into his cheeks. Loki didn't laugh though, he didn't say anything, he simply did as Thor requested. His toes lightly travelled up, past Thor's knee and tickling his inner thigh. Finally Loki stopped, his foot dropping to lie flat against the ground between Thor's legs. The knobs of his ankle were each touching the skin of Thor's thigh with the curve of Loki's heel mere breath away from where Thor's cock and balls were resting.

 

It was only when Loki poked him sharply into the side, making him seize up and half-sit, that he realized he wasn't breathing.

 

“Calm down,” Loki murmured.

 

Thor forcibly willed himself to stop thinking and laid back down. Loki resumed his unconventional massage, digging his toes and heel in turn into Thor's muscles in an artful way.

 

“Loki.”

 

“Hm?”

 

“Nothing.”

 

“Eloquent.”

 

And then it was silence between them again. Thor was balancing on the edge of relaxing, but something held him back, perhaps a warning tickling the back of his mind. His mind was a spinning, sublimating thing that absorbed the rhythm of his heart and would not be forced to race any faster.

 

“Thor.”

 

Loki was mirroring his brother it seemed.

 

“Yes?”

 

“Did you enjoy the blueberries yesterday?”

 

Thor's head and blood raced with the memory.

 

“I did.”

 

“What about them?”

 

“They were sweet and tart. Dark and pretty. They leave a mark like no other fruit does.”

 

“They are your favourites then?”

 

“Always.”

 

Loki just hummed to that and rubbed his foot gently over Thor's ankle. Thor watched their surroundings, the last rays of sunlight playing across the deep lake, with vast green hills as far as the eye could see. It was an unparalleled beauty and he said so.

 

“Yes, I suppose it is,” agreed Loki. “Untouched and wild. And look at us, in the midst of it. Imagine we were taken into another time as we are. We would be nobody. No clothes, no titles, no names even. We could stay here forever or travel wherever we wished to become whatever we wished.”

 

It was a beautiful fantasy and it surprised Thor how much he liked the sound of it. He was never before unhappy with who he was and he wondered what could have brought the wistful feeling on now.

 

He shook himself lightly. “We may not stay here forever, but that doesn't mean we cannot appreciate it now.”

 

“Optimistic as always, brother. Come on now, before you catch a chill. The sun has set.”

 

Loki made a move to pull away and get up, but Thor's hand shot out and stopped him, grabbing his ankle in a firm grip.

 

“Why did you not race me? Tell me or I will tickle you.”

 

Doing good on his threat, Thor brought his other hand to the sole of Loki's foot and swept his fingers over it teasingly.

 

“I did. Then I got bored.”

 

“Just like that? You hate to lose.”

 

“There was no boon for the winner.”

 

“Oh I think there was.”

 

Loki's brow furrowed in confusion. “Like what?”

 

Thor just laughed. “I am onto your games, Loki. Up you get. It is your turn to hunt.”

 

Loki made a great show of rolling his eyes as he gingerly rose and brushed stray pieces of grass from his skin. As he turned away, Thor bit his lip to hide a startled laugh or perhaps a gasp. There were slightly reddened, tiny indentations over the entirety of Loki's back, most prominently on his backside and shoulders where the most of his weight had been resting. The grass drew its signature all over Loki's skin and the sight entranced Thor. It was a perfectly harmless, not lasting disturbance of the otherwise smooth surface and it made Thor's gut shiver.

 

Almost without thinking, he jumped to his feet and gave in to the desire to feel the bumps under his fingertips.

 

“You have grass on your ass,” he said lightly as he brushed his entire open palm over Loki's backside. Loki gave him a demure look over his shoulder and Thor smiled broadly before slapping him, hard.

 

“You-”cried Loki, the slap making him jump.

 

“There, all gone,” giggled Thor, his hands both coming back to protect himself from Loki's revenge. They wrested, still standing up, for a while before Loki was sufficiently pacified by a very sharp pinch he managed to inflict on the soft skin of Thor's thigh, just below his cheeks.

 

That night they dined on fish and clams that Loki magicked from the lake with little effort. Thor watched their meal plummet from the depths with just a flick of Loki's hand and crossed his arms.

 

“Why exactly do I spend hours hunting when you can feed us this easily?”

 

“Because I am not your nursemaid.”

 

They seasoned the meat with a sprinkle of salt that they brought with them and with wild nettle. The clams blackened and cracked in the fire, revealing chewy, pale flesh within. Thor enjoyed the taste but wished they had something sour to put on it. With stomachs full, they built a tent and were almost ready to sleep when Thor remembered he should clean the horses' hooves. There was a lot of loose gravel around the lake. Loki simply nodded when Thor told him of his intention, seemingly falling into one of his quiet states, a sign of tiredness.

 

Thor cursed himself for having forgotten the chore. It was dark, even if not as dark as it would have been in the forest. The stars were shining brightly and reflecting their light on the lake. He found the little hook he needed and crouched beside Druna first, tapping her leg and she obligingly let him put her foot on his knee and scrape all the dirt out. Repeating the process four times, he moved on to Gletta, who eyed him warily and stomped a few times before finally allowing his presence. She was a moody thing when it came to anyone but Loki.

 

Coming back to the tent, Thor paused, straining his ears. He was on high alert ever since the night fell, looking out for any signs of danger. He could learn from his mistakes. He catalogued all the night, nature sounds; the almost imperceptible splashes coming from the calm lake, the occasional hoot and a few cries from water birds. That was all. Reassured, he dropped to his knees and crawled into the tent.

 

A rushed blur of movement was the first thing he saw, but it was gone as soon as it started and he was left staring at flushed Loki, illuminated by their small lantern. He was oddly entangled in his sleeping bag and glared at Thor with wide eyes.

 

“Well, that was quick,” blurted Loki. “Are you sure you did it properly?”

 

“Were you just... jerking off in here?”

 

“Thor!” Loki was now freely blushing. “A little tact, perhaps?”

 

Thor snorted, flopping himself on top his own bag. “Tact? I'm your brother.”

 

“True. I'm the tactless one. I should have just asked you to join me. _Lend a hand._ ” 

 

“Loki! By the Norns,” Thor seized up in laughter, covering a twitch that ran through him. With some muffled insult, Loki snapped his fingers, snuffing out their light and seemed to settle for sleep. Thor merely stared at the darkness in front of him, sleep the last thing on his mind. Thoughts kept resurfacing at the front of his mind with an insistence that he was not accustomed, to and the harder he fought, the stronger they became.

 

He saw elegant hands caressing smooth, pale thighs. His imagination didn't have to try too hard there with the view of Loki's skin still freshly burned into his brain from their swim. He saw a gentle curve of a cock that his eyes had been so drawn to in the lake straightening and filling in under skilled touch. He shook his head minutely to get rid of the ideas but others took their place immediately. Was Loki still hard and unsatisfied under the covers? What if he was simply waiting for Thor to fall asleep to finish what he started? Could Thor perhaps fake sleep and find out what... But no, he had to stop himself right there. His thoughts were too wild, not balancing on the edge anymore as rather having fallen over it with a cold finality.

 

He must have simply laid there for at least an hour before he finally got a grasp on his thoughts. That didn't mean he chose to forget what he felt and what came to his mind. He simply tried to make sense of it.

 

“Are you awake, brother?” he asked Loki quietly.

 

“What?” Loki jerked and turned around. “Well now I am.”

 

“What do you think love is?”

 

Once the question left his lips, Thor was almost certain that it would go unanswered. They needed their rest and he tore Loki from sleep to ask him a vague, odd question. It was not the sort of foolishness that his brother usually took well to.

 

“I think... I think love can be whatever you want it to be. It can be like a battle, excitement and rush and nothing ever staying the same. You get hurt, but you want to do it all over again. Or it can be like a feast. Sweet and filling. Something you share. Or like a lazy day when you indulge in everything that makes you happy.”

 

“I... when you say it like that. It sounds so vast. Full of possibilities.”

 

“That's because it is. We are not always masters of our fate, but we are masters of ourselves. Of our fears and desires.”

 

“I have heard it said that love rules us, not the other way around.”

 

“That is not the same thing. You do not choose whom you love, but you choose what to do with the devotion. You can fight it or accept it and I am afraid that most of the time, when one fights what they feel, it is only for the wrong reasons. Reasons that are not their own.”

 

Thor digested this slowly. He was perhaps silent for too long and Loki spoke up again.

 

“Who is it that you love, brother?”

 

Thor reached over to kiss Loki's hair.

 

“I'm sorry to have woken you. Goodnight.”

 


	5. The Attack

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks to the team of [hereatyourservice](http://hereatyourservice.tumblr.com/) for beta-reading!
> 
> This chapter involves violence towards animals, but it's not graphic and the animals do not come to any real harm.

“Thor, wake up. Something is wrong.”

 

Thor's eyes snapped wide open and he blinked, disoriented, into the darkness. As soon as Loki's words filtered into his mind, he realized that it was more than true. They were surrounded, not only by heavy darkness that didn't at all agree with Thor's own gut feeling of what time of the day it was, but it was also eerily quiet and still. Thor felt like he had slept for long hours, sluggishness still heavy in his limbs from oversleeping and yet not a single ray of light was sneaking between the ties of their tent. Furthermore, hairs were standing on the back of his neck and his blood began to race with the unmistakable instinct of danger.

 

“What is it?” he whispered, leaning towards the solid weight where Loki's legs were pressed to his own.

 

“Some sort of dark magic. Something wild, primal. Are you armed?”

 

Thor slowly pulled his sword from its sheath, where it rested next to his dagger ever since their first night in the forest. “I am now.”

 

Before Thor could stop him and put himself forward, Loki was untying the laces that held the front part of their tent together and was slipping out. Thor hurried to follow. Then they were out, feeling the pebbles and grass under their feet just like they could remember from the previous evening, but that was all that was familiar. There were no sounds or smells of the lake shore or the near forest, just deafening, disarming darkness. Behind Thor, Loki murmured a spell and a little ball of light appeared in his palm. It was bright and strong, as Loki had mastered that spell ages ago, but the only thing it illuminated was Loki himself and Thor as well. The light didn't seem to reach even the ground or any of their surroundings. Loki cursed and shook his hand out, trying a different spell. A weak but insistent blue flame flickered on between Loki's fingers and this time, it was a success. The light spread out, creating deep shadows all around them.

 

Thor and Loki saw the glowing eyes at the same moment and along with it came the sounds of barking.

 

They were encircled by a pack of wolves.

 

“Are they the source of the darkness?” murmured Thor, hoping his question wouldn't set off an attack. He needed to know if they were facing foes other than the pack itself.

 

“Yes. We need fire. Lift up your sword for me, but do it very slowly. You must be ready to strike immediately.”

 

They were standing half side by side, half back to back and Thor carefully turned his torso so that it would be closer to Loki and very slowly brought his sword up in both hands. Loki held his own sword in his left hand, raising the left one for casting.

 

“Ready...”

 

With a loud spoken spell and a wide sweep of his hand, Loki set the blades of their swords on fire, the same blue fire that flickered in Loki's palm a moment ago and Thor charged just as the wolves began yapping and whining loudly, ready to jump. The visibility was still bad, but he didn't let it stop him. He and Loki were safely back to back now, a necessary precaution in a fight like this, and their flaming swords were doing wonders. Thor didn't actually get too many hits in, the wolves were too quick for that and his aim too impaired by the remaining darkness, but he was holding his own well and deflected all attacks while steadily driving the wolves further and further away thanks to the flames, and tearing through the magical darkness. Soon there were fully cleared spots of light, leaving only heavy clouds of black hovering in their vicinity.

 

Sweep, dodge, thrust, dive forward and jump back, charge. For Thor, it was a dance. Wolves as opponents were both more and less predictable than warriors. Their instincts drove them to attack in their set ways long after they became known to the opponents, but their wildness and agility made it hard to follow their movements.

 

He was almost knocked to the ground by a powerful charge from a large grey wolf, possibly the alpha who ran at him from great distance and jumped so high and with such speed that he almost landed on Thor's head. Thor knocked him aside with the flat side of his sword, scorching his fur and sending him flying. The wolf didn't attack again, circling the skirmish with low growling. The more Thor and Loki thrust their swords, the less of the darkness held on and soon sunshine was streaming in full force on the battlefield. Thor fought off one of the last approaching animals, hitting it on the nose with the butt of his sword and it scurried away, whining. Satisfied with their victory, Thor straightened out and looked over to Loki who looked none worse for wear.

 

His relief was premature.

 

Just a bit to their left, there was still a huge chunk of the black cloud and one last wolf had been hiding in it as Loki put out the flames that he had charmed onto their swords. The beast threw itself at Thor with spitting rage and struck true – its fangs sunk into his shoulder and neck, tearing flesh and muscle. White hot pain knocked the sense out of him for a moment but then the pressure was gone and he was left staggering before falling to his knees.

 

It was hard for him to see what happened next. He thought there was a flash of light and screaming but he couldn't be certain. He remembered trying to focus his gaze on the grass that was suddenly very close to his face and then a disconcerting hot and cold feeling poured all over his body. His limbs were freezing and heavy while his face and neck burned with agony and he wanted to speak, say something even as he wasn't too sure what it should be. Then the darkness came – like a layer of cloth over his eyes, heavy and insistent.

 

When he awoke next, the pain was gone, even if he still remained sore and tired. His head and back especially troubled him with pinching ache. He let the memories come to him slowly, but there was no need to panic as one of the most vivid feelings he registered at present was the weight of Loki's slim hand in his own. The danger had passed and guessing by the lack of agony, Loki had used a healing stone on him.

 

“Loki,” he wheezed and then coughed harshly, his throat sore and raw.

 

“Shh, it's alright. Here, drink.”

 

A cup was pressed to his lips and he gulped the cool liquid down gratefully.

 

Then Loki started explaining what happened, likely trying to stop the influx of questions that would hurt Thor's throat.

 

“There was another wolf hiding and it almost tore your throat out. Your shoulder was just as bad. I wounded it and chased it away, but you were bleeding badly. I closed the wound with a stone, but you are still weak. You need to rest.”

 

Thor did feel like resting.

 

Next time he came to, it was dark again, but not unnaturally this time. What unsettled Thor was Loki's absence, but soft voice waving into the tent from outside gave him an explanation of that. Thor frowned, wondering who Loki was talking to before it finally dawned on him. Their horses. Surely the wolves... he didn't even want to consider it. He sat up gingerly, testing the strength of his limbs and found himself well enough, if not up to perfect health. He crawled out of the tent, needing to relieve himself anyway and desperate to see what became of their mares.

 

The sun had just set and the nature around was in the liminal moment when the diurnal life was sleeping and the nocturnal not yet prowling. A false calm.

 

Loki was standing next to stomping Druna, caressing her muzzle and talking to her.

 

“Where is Gletta?” Thor asked, stunned but not a little bit afraid.

 

“I don't know,” Loki replied, not turning to face Thor. “I only found Druna.”

 

“Did you... what do you think happened?”

 

“They both tore themselves off and ran away, I believe. Druna was wandering by the lake.”

 

“But there is... no blood. The wolves... they were coming after us.”

 

“Yes,” sighed Loki. His shoulders were sagged. “I think she merely bolted. But there is no way to find her. And I couldn't have left you here while you were passed out.”

 

Thor opened his mouth and closed it, at loss for words. He felt oddly guilty. Before he figured out what to do or say, Loki shook himself and walked over to Thor.

 

“You must be starving. There is more fish and some duck eggs. Come eat.”

 

Thor's stomach did feel hollow with hunger, but he lacked appetite. Despite that, he tried to eat as much as he could to strengthen himself. They had already wasted an entire day and he wished to be back on the road as soon as possible. The duck eggs (fried and stirred into a soft mush) were delicious and went down his throat smoothly. Even the fish, white and boneless was full of taste and fragrance. Loki, claiming to have already eaten, watched him silently with pinched intent, sitting cross-legged on the grass. Thor himself preferred to recline against a tree trunk, resting his uninjured bare shoulder against it.

 

“How is the fish?” Loki asked.

 

“Delicious, thank you,” Thor replied with an attempt of a smile and then coughed and reached for a water-skin. His throat could only handle either eating or talking, not both. “Even better than yesterday actually.”

 

Loki's eyebrow twitched lightly as he kept his unblinking gaze on Thor. “I seasoned it more.”

 

Thor nodded. Finishing his meal, his thoughts seemed to have slowed down and he credited it to the injury and full stomach until he realized he had been staring down at the fish bones in his hand for an unseemly amount of time. Impossibly slowly, painfully the polite conversation from minutes ago turned around in his memory. _How is the fish?_ How _is the fish?_ It was tasty. Bold. Why was it so bold? What was it that he could taste? He felt flushed and he tried to reach for his water, only to knock the waterskin aside clumsily. Then there were cool fingers on his heated cheeks, like tiny icicles bringing him back to awareness.

 

“I think you have a fever, you should not have gotten up so soon. Come now.”

 

“No,” insisted Thor, grasping Loki's hands. “The fish.”

 

“You ate the fish, brother.” Loki's voice was soothing, but all that could permeate the fog of Thor's head was the underlying 'shush' in it and suddenly he was angry.

 

“I know! And it was all wrong!”

 

“Fascinating. Now come to the tent.”

 

He must have listened, because soon he found himself in the closed confines of their shelter. Loki's face was hovering over him, dark and serious.

 

“What do you feel?” it asked.

 

“Hot,” he croaked in an exhausted reply. And it was the truth, he was burning up to the point of pain, his skin pulling and tugging on itself in spasms, sweat clouding his vision as it dribbled from his brow into his eyes. His lips were glued together with a nasty, spicy taste. It was the same as he tasted during the meal, but much stronger. He couldn't place the flavour anymore, but it was making his stomach turn.

 

“Do you want to undress?”

 

With an effort, Thor looked down at the trousers that he still wore. Becoming suddenly aware of the clothing, it became unendurable, chaffing and stifling hot.

 

“Please,” he wheezed out. The material was then promptly tugged down his hips and legs, revealing his skin to the only slightly cooler air. It was a relief nonetheless and he moaned his content, the red haze of fever simmering down for a few minutes.

 

He laid there on his back, staring at the cloth roof with no grasp of time or the outer world whatsoever. Sleep was not coming despite his lack of energy. At one point, he guessed that Loki must have left because suddenly he was coming back, crawling into the tent and then there was smooth coolness being spread all over his body. A wet cloth, he understood after a few minutes.

 

“Talk to me, brother,” Loki murmured into his ear. How odd. Last time Thor saw him, he was by his belly, squeezing water onto it from the cloth.

 

Thor dutifully opened his mouth, only to find there was nothing coming out.

 

“Last night, you asked me a question. Do you remember?”

 

Thor gasped, because yes, he did remember. He had envisioned things, forbidden things and then he asked-

 

“Calm down, calm down!”

 

The sharp hiss tore him from his frenzy, as did hands pushing him to lay back down.

 

“You did nothing wrong, Thor. Shh. It's just me here. Just us.”

 

Thor settled down, calmed but his hands noticed the coolness of Loki's skin and pulled him forward.

 

“Just us,” he echoed.

 

“Exactly. You needn't worry.”

 

“Wasn't worried...” slurred Thor, relaxing and nosing all the cool skin he could reach.

 

“I'm your brother. There is nothing we do not share. You need to keep no secrets. Is that right?”

 

He nodded because it seemed reasonable.

 

“We are unique. Nobody has what we have. Do you disagree? Do you think that you would find a man in the whole nine realms who is as close to his brother as you are to me?”

 

Thor gave a slight shake of his head, saying no.

 

“You told me I should not pay mind to what people say. Did you mean it?”

 

Thor remembered that, he did. And it was a good advice on his part, if he could say so himself. People... the Aesir... they were all so far away. Insignificant.

 

“Yes,” he breathed.

 

“Well then, my beloved brother, you should not either. Now rest. You are ill.”

 

“No, please! Loki, I...”

 

It was like lying under a thick red woollen blanket, smothering him with heat and filling his lungs with heavy smoke and he tried hard to fight through it, to make sure... he just had to make sure Loki knew.

 

“Brother... ”

 

“Shh... you will tell me tomorrow.”

 

“Please... be close.”

 

“Of course I will be. I always am. Here.”

 

Sweat was wiped from his brow gently, hair smoothed down, a hand slid down his chest leaving a trail of coolness in its wake. “I am not going anywhere. Do you feel my touch, Thor?”

 

He nodded, eyes finally falling shut. “Always want... to touch... close...”

 

“I know. It's good. So good. You can always ask me for anything. Sleep now.”

 

 

* * *

 

When the morning came, he barely made it out of the tent before falling to his knees and vomiting until nothing was left in his stomach. Even then, he simply hovered on all fours, shivering with nausea. His head was hurting and his skin felt dry and exhausted, an odd tremor running through his entire body as he heaved emptily. He could count on the fingers of one hand all of the times when he had ever felt this bad in his life.

 

He let himself be pulled up by hands wordlessly grasping him under his arms. Loki took him to the lake, dumping him in as he was. He groaned, sinking to his knees in the shallow and floating with closed eyes. The lack of gravity did him well. Loki stood at the shore, ankle deep in water and watched him with folded arms.

 

“Are you going to be able to eat?”

 

Thor shrugged, averting his eyes. With the passing physical weakness, his mind turned to the previous evening. It was hazy and yet he remembered enough to be mildly confused and disturbed.

 

“No more fish I suppose,” he mumbled.

 

Crawling out of the water, he simply sprawled where the ground was dry and deemed not to move. Preferably not ever again.

 

“Here,” he was nudged after a while and he accepted the water and old bread Loki was giving him.

 

“Thank you.”

 

He chewed dutifully and gradually started feeling better. Loki sat by him, glancing at times to see his progress with the food. Swallowing down the last piece of crust, Thor steeled himself and stood up.

 

“Come on. It's not yet too late, we should be on our way.”

 

Loki snorted and stretched out on the ground, folding his arms behind his back.

 

“Right. You are in no condition to go anywhere. Go back to sleep and we will see how you are doing tomorrow.”

 

“But we must go on!”

 

“And we will. When you are well.”

 

“I am well,” protested Thor.

 

“Yesterday you got up acting as if you were healed and ended up delirious in fever. You are most certainly not well.”

 

Thor huffed and crossed his arms. The fight was seeping from him rapidly as he realized that he was quickly beginning to feel bad again simply from standing up.

 

“We have a good camp. Let's stay here until we are sure we won't be hindered once we depart,” Loki continued. “We are likely to lose even more time if we travel while you are sick. Don't forget we only have one horse now.”

 

“Fine. But we are not eating any more of the fish. I could swear there was something wrong with it.”

 

Loki shrugged delicately and turned his eyes to the sky. “There are ducks and other water birds. Some bigger game might even be coming to drink from the lake. We won't starve.”

 

With matters settled, there really wasn't anything else for Thor to do but go back into the tent and rest. His headache made him drowsy and yet it still took him a while to fall asleep. In the dimness of the tent it was easier to strain his thoughts to dig up memories from last night. He couldn't recall the words Loki had spoken to him, but he remembered the way his voice grew soft and warm, such a rare gentleness coming from his brother. And he remembered how they made him feel – safe and calm, and excited and delighted at the same time. They were words inspiring trust, whispers of beckoning and invitation. His fears were being chased away and his desires were being uncovered with loving hands. He shivered under the covers. When sleep finally came, it was soothing and deep.

 

It took him a long time to climb slowly towards awareness a few hours later. He was warm and comfortable, his headache gone and light tingles were massaging his scalp. Gradually, he realized it was Loki playing with his hair, combing it with his fingers and untangling the knots. He didn't move, breathing slowly as to not put an end to the treatment. It was hard to feign sleep when his heart was fluttering wildly in his chest and his stomach clenched with a sense of excitement and nervousness. It felt almost like fear.

 

Minutes that felt like hours later Loki stopped and Thor felt a kiss being pressed to his temple. It seemed like a parting gesture and his hand shot out to grasp Loki's wrist to pull him closer. They were both silent and still, Thor lying on his back with Loki half draped on top of him, half hovering. The only source of light was a gap between the flaps of their tent, and it shaded Thor's face. Loki was illuminated from behind, every single hair out of place on his head standing stark against the warm light. It must have been sunset again. Thor wasn't looking at Loki's hair though, he was looking at his face, into his eyes, searching for his final answer. Searching for the last push of reassurance; that he hadn't been imagining things. That he was allowed.

 

The silence couldn't be excused. It was not their way do to this, to be still and close, sharing a breath and looking at each other openly. They could sleep close, but they couldn't _be_ close. There always had to be a purpose, something to do and when this pretence finally fell away, Thor realized how clear it all was. Their whole lives they had been moving, dancing almost, because who measured distance in the peaks of velocity? And now they staggered to a stop.

 

_So brave, my little darling,_ was Thor's first thought when Loki bent down and kissed him. His arms then sneaked firmly around his brother's form, settling him snuggly against himself and he opened his mouth into the kiss. Loki's nose was cold against his cheek, a lovely contrast to the warm lips and tongue that played with his own gently. It was dizzying. Thor had always known how his brother smelled, he was used to the comforting scent from their very early childhood, hiding together, playing, fighting, he was used to in Loki's rooms when he sprawled over his brother’s bed to annoy him, he looked for it when they slept together – and now he could taste it, clear and bright like never before. The kiss was exhilarating and felt immensely good, but what sent uncontrollable shivers through Thor was the taste and the smell. It was Loki, only Loki, his brother; he could close his eyes, he could let go with his arms, he could be blind and deaf and clueless and still he would know. Even with the change, with the daring step they took, there was a sense of sameness, of familiarity. Loki was everything he had ever been to him. And more. Deliciously more.

 

His hands became greedy, caressing every curve and angle they could reach. Teasing fingers dipped under clothing. Loki spluttered into his mouth a little when Thor tickled him unwittingly. They pulled away a bit, smiling. Thor could see Loki's eyes carefully mapping his face, as if looking for something.

 

“Well?” Thor prompted, smile widening.

 

“Well what? Are you looking for a compliment?” Loki murmured into Thor's jaw and bit him.

 

“I have my compliment right here,” Thor replied, grasping Loki's ass and grinding his hips against himself to hint that he could feel Loki's erection. Loki huffed in laughter and laid his head down on the crook of Thor's neck.

 

They rested for a while until they came down from the rush and Thor summoned the will to speak.

 

“Do you wish to talk?”

 

“Why? Everything has been said, hasn't it? Or were you not listening?”

 

Thor exhaled, closing his eyes. “I was.”

 

“Then I suppose...” purred Loki, pressing their lips together again. “We have an understanding.”

 

Thor flipped them over and settled between Loki thighs, tilting his head back gently with a hand buried in his hair and tasted the skin of his neck. “We do, brother.”


End file.
